


His Prodigal Son

by Quinny_555



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Dark Malcolm Bright, Gen, Interrogation, It's Actually Malcolm Whitly For This Fic, but ya know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23452390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quinny_555/pseuds/Quinny_555
Summary: For Jameena's prompt:"Gil reminds himself not to underestimate the man sitting across from him in interrogation. Whitly has likely gone undetected for years. How many people had this monster killed on his watch? He tries to suppress a shudder, but perceptive eyes dart from his second-in-command back to him with laser focus. Deciding not to dwell on the chill that roots in the base of his spine, Gil begins. “Mr. Whitly—““Please,” he interrupts, “Call me Malcolm.”
Comments: 7
Kudos: 85
Collections: neverquit





	His Prodigal Son

Gil reminded himself not to underestimate the man sitting across from him in interrogation. Whitly has likely gone undetected for years.  _ How many people had this monster killed on his watch? _ He tried to suppress a shudder, but perceptive eyes darted from his second-in-command back to him with laser focus. Deciding not to dwell on the chill that rooted in the base of his spine, Gil began. “Mr. Whitly—“ 

“Please,” he interrupted, “Call me Malcolm.” 

“Malcolm,” he said instead. The man across from him didn't look imposing or dangerous at all; that was part of why he had been able to elude justice for so long. Being unassuming was part of his con. You wouldn't know he was dangerous until it was too late. “I think we should start simple. Let's talk about your family; your father, more specifically.” Malcolm tilted his head slightly. 

“You chose one hell of a topic to ‘start simple’,” he remarked. “But fine. Martin Whitly,” he sighed. “I hate the old man. I sincerely hope he’s rotting in Hell. But that's not what you want to know about,” he said, clenching his fists to stop the tremor that was starting up. 

“No?” Gil asked. Malcolm shook his head, grinning in a way that made him look truly unhinged. 

“Nope.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “You want to know about his crimes,” he hissed, “You want to know what he did to his victims, and you want to know whether I helped.” he leaned forward, not breaking eye contact with Gil. “You want to know just what he did that twisted me into the killer I am now. You want to know what turned a sweet ten-year-old into a monster.” 

“Yes,” Gil said quietly. He was resisting the urge to lean away for Malcolm’s intense gaze. Malcolm studied his face for a moment before leaning back casually, smiling politely as though this were a casual conversation between co-workers. It was like a switch had been flipped, and the change was instantaneous. 

“Well, you should have just asked!” He said cheerily. “That’s why I'm here, of course. I'm not going to turn myself in and not talk. That seems kind of redundant, don't ya think?” 

“Why?” Gil couldn't help asking. 

“Why what?” 

“Why did you turn yourself in? We weren't even close to catching you, you could have just kept-” 

“Killing?” Malcolm interrupted. Gil expected him to laugh and say something along the lines of “I was bored”. He nodded and Malcolm thought for a moment. “Let me tell you a story, Gil. There was a little boy who lived the perfect life. He had wonderful parents who loved him and each other. One night, the little boy walked in on something he wasn't supposed to, found a woman locked in a trunk in his father’s workroom. His father, as I'm sure we both know, was no fool. He knew he had to keep his son quiet, and what better way than chloroform? Well, that didn't work quite as well as he had hoped, and the son called the police,” 

“Of course, he simply told the police that it had been a prank when they arrived at his house, and you know what happened?” he barked out a laugh. “They believed him completely. He was free to keep killing. Can you believe that? And of course, he couldn't have that happen a second time, so he made his son as complicit as he was. Forced him to do horrendous things until he didn't find them horrendous anymore.” 

Gil just stared; that wasn't the answer he had been expecting. Whitly’s hand was shaking so hard he could hear the chain rattle. “So you want to know why I called the police? Same reason I did twenty years ago. To stop a monster of the same breed; only this time, it wasn't him. Oh no, it was his  _ prodigal son _ .” 


End file.
